Running Away
by Center of the Galaxy
Summary: Ever since Sam had turned 13, his father has been forcing him into a life that he wants no part of. When John and Dean leave on a hunt that takes them across state lines, Sam knows this is his chance. How he had ended up on Bobby's porch; however, was a bit of a blur. So much for his grand plans of getting away from it all. *Sam 13, Dean 18, Sam/Bobby bonding and BigBrother!Dean*
1. Grand Plans

_** Author's Note: **__For some reason, I really just wanted to write about Sam running away. Also, I have always been in love with this song and the lyrics of this song. It's so beautiful! So, this is the product of a plot bunny that wouldn't go away and Newsies being on TV. This story kind of ran away from me too. It's way longer than I had intended and it somehow morphed into a Bobby/Sam bonding story rather than a strictly Sam story. Still, I'm pleased with how it turned out! Please enjoy!_

* * *

_If the life don't seem to suit ya_

_How 'bout a change of scene?_

—_Newsies "Santa Fe"_

* * *

Sam Winchester had thought this through.

He had been planning for weeks, waiting for a hunt that would take John and Dean away; leaving Sam to stay alone at whatever rental was currently serving as "home". He had been secretly storing away food and clothes into an old duffel bag that he had found in a trashcan in Chicago and he had been memorizing bus and train schedules. He was ready—had been ready—and now all he needed was the right hunt to come up.

He was going to do it this time.

He was going to run away.

Sam had wanted to run for the past few months. Ever since he had turned 13, his father had been pushing him more into hunting and practically ordering him to stop spending so much time at school to focus on the "job". Every day was an endless cycle of John chanting, _"Get that exorcism memorized, Sam"_ and _"Tell me how to hunt this, Sam"_. Frankly, the youngest Winchester was sick of it—sick of John ordering him around and not respecting him, sick of being forced into a life that he didn't want to be a part of and just sick of everything that had to do with hunting. Sam wanted more. He wanted to go to college and a marry a nice girl and have that perfect American dream that he saw on those cheesy movies that were sometimes on in the afternoon.

He wanted to be normal.

Was that such a crime? What was wrong with wanting something more than this dangerous life that could have him killed by the time he was 30? It scared him to think that he would die before he truly got a chance to experience all the joys that life had to offer. He didn't want that—he wanted to live until he was old and die of natural causes, not at the hands of any supernatural creature.

That was why he had to do this—he had to run away. It was his only chance to be free and to live life the way he wanted to. It was risky to run, but the thought of staying put and being told what to do with his life was much worse. Sam had to do this.

"Sam?" Dean's voice caught him off-guard and his older brother eyed him from the doorway suspiciously. "Thinking too hard again?"

"Yeah," Sam admitted as he held up a textbook. "Just some math stuff." Dean winced and Sam forced himself to chuckle so his brother wouldn't be able to really tell what was on his mind. Dean had dropped out of high school his senior year after John had given him the whole _We-need-you-more _speech that he had attempted to use on Sam a few weeks ago. While Dean gave no indication that he missed school or regretted his decision, Sam wondered if deep down Dean was okay with how much John pressured him into doing things. Then again, Dean was John's perfect soldier and Sam was the rebel.

"You sure you're okay?" Dean's voice snapped him out of his train of thought and Sam could see concern in his big brother's eyes.

"Fine," Sam lied quickly. "What's up?"

"Dad and I have a job," Dean explained and Sam tried not to let the happiness show on his face. Finally! This was his chance! He was going to do it! "And if you want to stay put for school and stuff, Dad said that was fine." Sam nodded appreciatively and pretended like it was school that was the reason behind his grin.

"Where?"

"Wendigo one state over," Dean replied. "It should take us a few days. You'll be okay by yourself?"

"I'm 13, Dean." Sam retorted and Dean chuckled dryly.

"And don't we all know it, Princess." Sam chuckled his Algebra textbook at his older brother, who managed to dodge it completely.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning." For some odd reason, a feeling of sadness coursed through Sam though he knew that he should be thrilled. He was finally going to be able to go! Yet, he knew that this would probably be the last time he spent with Dean for a long time. Regardless of how crappy his life was, Sam loved Dean. He would miss him when he left.

"You wanna watch a movie?" Dean's eyebrows rose in mild shock. "You can pick." Dean stepped into the small bedroom and placed a cool hand on Sam's forehead. "What?"

"No fever," Dean confirmed. He then paused, almost as if for dramatic effect. "Christo."

"Hey!"

"What?" Dean teased with a smirk on his lips. "You never let me pick movies. You always want to watch that stupid _Law&Order_ crap."

"That is a great show!" Sam exclaimed as he punched Dean on the arm.

"You really sure you want to do that, bitch?" Dean challenged and Sam couldn't help, but laugh.

"Bring it on, jerk!" Dean charged and Sam easily dodged him. Laughing, Sam sprinted around the room while Dean attempted to tackle him. Eventually, the two fell to the floor with a thud that echoed throughout the small house they were renting.

"Keep it down, boys!" John bellowed from the other room and immediately Dean stiffened.

"Yes, sir!" Dean called back and the smile fell from Sam's face. Dean would never change. He would always be John's perfect soldier. That was why Sam had to leave. He couldn't become a soldier—he wouldn't! He had to get out of this life and maybe one day, Dean would too.

"So, movie?" Sam ventured and Dean nodded as he grabbed the remote for the small television that they had in the bedroom.

Sam spent his last night with Dean watching a stupid movie that Dean fell asleep during and yet, he wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

The next morning, Sam watched with an odd sense of detachment as John and Dean loaded up the Impala with their duffels. John gruffly ordered Sam to stay inside the house and to answer the phone when they called—two rules that Sam was going to break as soon as the Impala was out of sight.

"Yes sir," Sam lied and John rewarded him with a small smile. "Be safe." John waved off his concern and got into the car. Walking over to him, Dean smirked before ruffling his hair.

"Be careful," Dean told him, a serious expression gracing his face. "If you have any problems, call." Sam nodded his head and then wrapped his arms around his older brother. It took Dean a bit off-guard, but quickly Dean's arms surrounded Sam. "Sammy? You okay?"

"Fine." Sam lied.

Dean was the one constant in his life—the one thing that he could always count on. Whenever their father had been MIA, Dean had been there to help give him some sense of a life. And now . . . now Sam was abandoning him and moving onto to a life without his big brother by his side. Running away would mean leaving Dean. It would mean that life as he knew it would change. It was a frightening prospect, even to someone who had never called a place "home" for more than a few months at a time.

"Do you need me to stay?" Dean broke off the hug and met his little brother's gaze, concern clearly written there in his eyes. "Are you coming down with something? Cause, I'll stay. Dad can fucking deal, okay?"

"Dean, no," Sam weakly protested. "Go. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." Sam replied.

"Well, okay, then," Dean still eyed him warily so Sam shot him a fake grin. Instantly, the worry faded away from his older brother's face, replaced with happiness. "See you soon, Sammy."

"Yeah, soon." Sam echoed.

He watched his brother and father drive off into the distance and forced himself not to feel anything.

* * *

Within 15 minutes, Sam was ready to go.

He had his duffel bag in his hand, a bus ticket that would take him over the state line, and a bag of chips that would tide him over until he got off the bus. He was ready. All he had to do was walk out that door and not look back.

So, why was he hesitating?

No doubt about it, this was what Sam wanted—to be free of the hunting life. This was his chance—his moment—and if he waited too long, he might not make it at all and then how long would it be before he could try again? No, he had to leave now. He had a schedule to follow, after all.

Sam still didn't move.

What about Dean? What would happen to him if Sam left? Dean wouldn't be pleased with his decision to leave—

"No." Sam mumbled, shaking his head. He couldn't reflect on what his older brother would think. It wasn't like he was cutting Dean out of his life—he would never do that! Sam just needed out of the hunting lifestyle and running away was his only choice. Once he was settled, he would call Dean and let him know where he was.

Determined, Sam stepped outside the door and never looked back as he left the house.

* * *

How he ended up on the front porch of Bobby's house was all a big blur.

He had gotten on the bus and then after he crossed the state line, he had gotten off at the closest bus stop to Singer Salvage and then walked all the way to the porch. Why he had decided to come to Bobby's though, that was what Sam didn't understand. This wasn't really running away. All he had done was head to another hunter's house—not exactly the grand scheme he had been planning for months. Internally debating what to do, Sam was just about to knock when the door flung open. Bobby stood before him, shock and confusion evident on his face.

"Sam?" He questioned cautiously. Sam shot him a sheepish grin.

"Hi, Uncle Bobby." Bobby mumbled something gruffly before swinging the door wide open.

"Well, get in here!" Sam did as he was told and entered the house that had become the Winchesters home-away-from-home. Whenever a major hunt came up, the trio would always swing by Bobby's to get advice and occasionally back-up. Dean and Sam knew the salvage yard like the back of their hand and many a day had been spent playing hide-and-go-seek there when they had been little. Being at Bobby's had always been a break for Sam. Unlike John, Bobby had never forced Sam to do anything that involved hunting. Hell, sometimes, Bobby had gone against John's orders and had allowed Sam to just be a kid.

Was that why he had subconsciously come here?

"Everything okay?" Bobby questioned gruffly as he handed Sam a small glass of holy water. Immediately, Sam drank it—he was used to Bobby's odd methods of checking for possessions—and Bobby relaxed a bit as he saw that Sam wasn't possessed.

"Yeah." Sam lied. He knew Bobby didn't believe him in the slightest.

"Where's your daddy? And Dean?" Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"On a hunt." He answered, wondering whether he should tell Bobby the truth about what he had been planning to do. The more experienced hunter would figure it out soon enough.

"They told you to come here?" Bobby asked, clearly confused as to what Sam was doing here exactly.

"I ran away." Sam blurted out.

A paused passed.

"Well, hell," Bobby muttered, chuckling and eyes flashing with amusement. "I didn't know you had it in you, Sam." He poured himself a whisky and Sam anxiously stared up at the older man.

"Are you going to call Dad?" That would be his greatest fear. John would give him hell for this, of that Sam was sure. He would be yelled at for hours, be forced to do more training exercises than was humanely possible in one day, and the look of shame on his father's face would kill him.

"To tell him that you came here?" Bobby clarified and Sam nodded, dreading what his answer would be. "Of course, Sam, I have to. Your daddy would skin me alive if I didn't tell him you with me." Sam's face fell.

"Oh." He said dejectedly. Bobby got up from the table and reached for the phone. Sam tried to prepare himself for the disappointment that would lurk in John's eyes, for the angry words that would be hurled at him; but he found that he couldn't force himself to accept these consequences.

"John? It's Singer," Bobby's gruff voice talked into the phone and dread filled the pit of Sam's stomach. "Listen, I heard something about a werewolf near where you were staying." A pause. "No, turned out it was a dead-end. But, I thought I would take Sam with me just in case. Give him some training in the meantime." Sam's head bolted up. What the heck was Bobby talking about? Was he covering for him? "Yeah. Sure, well he's with me so go on with your hunt." He hung up.

"You didn't tell him!" Sam exclaimed, feeling extremely happy and relieved. Without thinking, the youngest Winchester immediately hugged the gruff hunter. Bobby stiffened at first, but finally accepted the hug. "Thank you, Uncle Bobby."

"You're welcome, Sam," Bobby mumbled, wondering when he had become such a sap that he was okay with getting hugs. Slowly, he pulled away from the boy and smirked. "What do you think about getting some ice cream?"

"Really?"

"Really."

"No training?"

"No training."

"You're the best, Uncle Bobby!" The smile that graced Sam's lips was the brightest Bobby had ever seen on the kid. It was a rare sight too, considering how hard John worked the boy. Last time he had seen Sam, John had forced the boy to spend all his time researching a purification ritual and refused to give him a break. The poor boy had practically passed out from sheer exhaustion before he had finally gotten the research completed. Sam rarely got any moments to just be a kid—maybe a few days with him could change that.

Bobby didn't know why Sam had run away, but he was damn sure going to figure it out while the kid was here and then fix it. Blood or not, Sam was just as much a part of his family as he was with John and Dean. Family helped each other out and solved problems.

That was what Bobby was going to do.

Guaranteed.

* * *

_** Author's Note: **__I had originally planned for this to be a one-shot, but it seems that my muse has overruled that decision. I'm not sure how many chapters this will be, but expect a lot of a caring Bobby! And, of course, I'll throw in some awesome big brother Dean too. So, please review! _


	2. What Makes a Family

_** Author's Note: **__This chapter was such a pain to write . . . Still, I enjoy how it turned out. We get to see a bit of how much Bobby cares for Sam, something I wish we could see on the show. Ultimately, my goal for this story is to show Sam and Bobby's close relationship. I'm still not sure how long this story will go for, but I hope you will stay along for the ride!_

* * *

"_Running away, we'll do it._

_Why sit around, resigned?_

_Trouble is, son, the farther you run,_

_The more you'll feel undefined._

_For what you have left undone, and more,_

_What you've left behind."_

—_Into the Woods, "No More"_

* * *

Bobby had forgotten how much Sam really ate. In the course of an hour, Sam had devoured an ice cream sundae and a huge salad—an odd combination really, but Bobby didn't mention it because the youngest Winchester just looked so damn happy. He kept turning to Bobby and thanking him practically every minute, eyes wide and bright, a huge grin plastered on his face.

"Uncle Bobby, thanks so much!" Sam chirped as he took the last bite of his ice cream. "You're the best!" Bobby chuckled dryly as the waitress fawned from afar over how adorable the young teen was. At 13, Sam hadn't hit his growth-spurt yet and was skinny as hell, but he had the cutest dimples and the prettiest eyes, causing all the ladies—regardless of age—to fawn all over him. While Dean would've used this to his advantage, Bobby knew the thought had never occurred nor would it ever occur to Sam. Those boys were as different as night and day, yet the bond they shared was nothing short of incredible.

"So, Sam," Bobby started, placing down the cash for the meal. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, sir!" Sam exclaimed, rising from the table and shooting the waitress a warm smile and the woman practically swooned and insisted that Sam come back whenever he wanted some more ice cream—on the house this time. Stifling a laugh, Bobby led Sam back to the truck and two got in and made their way back to Singer Salvage.

"Hey, Sam?" Bobby began carefully, unsure as to how to broach this subject.

"Yeah?"

"So, how'd you get here?" It wasn't really the question he had wanted to ask, but it was a start.

"I took a bus and then walked here." Sam explained simply, the smile still on his face.

"How'd you get the money for the ticket?" Bobby inquired.

"Saved it."

"Sam," Bobby's tone grew quiet and the youngest Winchester's smile slowly faded from his expression. "Why'd you run away?"

"I don't want to talk about this, Uncle Bobby." Sam replied, eyes darting to the ground, his voice full of worry and fear.

"Now, you listen here, Sam," Bobby began, determination flashing in his eyes. "Whatever you say, it'll stay between us, okay? I won't go to your daddy or Dean and tell them anythin', I promise you." He shot Sam a small grin and instantly the tension drained from Sam's form. "Now, why did you run away?"

"I don't want to be a hunter." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Sam curled up in on himself, as if he were expecting Bobby to go ballistic on him or something. Bobby grimaced as he could imagine what John's response would be to his youngest child's blatant rejection of their lifestyle.

"Why not?" He questioned softly, though he could guess the reasons why. Unlike Dean who had been born to be a hunter, it was clear that Sam was more suited for other things. The boy was smart—so smart that he could go to an Ivy League school one day—and Bobby knew that Sam really hated moving around so much. Sam wanted a normal life, complete with the white-picket fence and perfect lawn.

"I just . . ." Sam's voice trailed off and after a few seconds, he composed himself before finally finishing his train of thought. "I want to be normal, Uncle Bobby. I don't want to do this for the rest of my life. I'm not even good at hunting!" He exclaimed, waving his arms in the air for effect. "I mean, I'm slow and small and Dean is so much better! All I can do is research . . ."

"Nothing wrong with research." Bobby interjected with a smirk and Sam chuckled, knowing full well that Bobby did a lot of their research for their hunts.

"I know," He replied. "But Dad wants me to hunt forever and I don't want to!" Sam frowned and let his eyes gaze out the window. "I didn't want to hunt anymore. I was just so tired of it, Uncle Bobby, and I just had to get out. That's why." Touched by Sam's honesty and trust in him, Bobby reached out and gently squeezed Sam's shoulder. The young boy looked at him, stunned by the affectionate gesture.

"Here's the thing, Sam," Bobby began. "Running away doesn't solve anything."

"It doesn't?"

"Nope," Bobby shook his head dismissively. "Wanna know why?"

"Why?" Sam echoed.

"Cause that doesn't make the problem go away." He explained.

"But, I wouldn't have to hunt!" Sam told him.

"That's true," Bobby admitted. "But, eventually, your daddy or Dean would've caught up to you and then you'd be in even more trouble than you were before." Bobby shot Sam a cautious glance. "Did you even think about the people you'd be leaving behind if you just got up and left?"

"I was going to call Dean when I was settled." Sam mumbled defensively and the older hunter suppressed a chuckle.

"And you would've called your dad?" Bobby pressed, to which Sam had no response. "Thought not."

"You don't understand," He whispered. "You never ran away."

"I did," Bobby told him and Sam regarded him with wide eyes. "Once, I ran away. Managed to stay gone for a week."

"And then?" Sam pressed, clearly eager.

"My dad found me and dragged my ass back home."

"Oh."

"Listen," Bobby said. "I'm not sayin' that you have to be like your daddy and follow in his footsteps. I'm just sayin' that running away ain't going to solve anything."

"I get that," Sam mumbled, defeat evident in his tone. "It's just, sometimes I wish that it would, you know?"

"I know," Bobby answered, memories from his own horrible childhood swirling in his mind. "Believe me I know."

"Promise you won't tell, Uncle Bobby?"

"I promise." He swore, a smile once again on his lips

"Uncle Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for suddenly showing up here." They had just pulled up to Singer Salvage and Bobby turned off the engine. The two sat in the truck in silence for a bit before the older hunter spoke up.

"Family ain't always related by blood, Sam," He said quietly. "And family will always take you in, no matter what. You remember that, alright?"

"Yes, sir." Sam replied. Satisfied, Bobby got out of the truck and two headed inside.

Sam had confessed so much to him today. The kid had admitted that he had needed a break and Bobby would give him one. That was all that was in his power now—talking to John would be out of the question and Sam would be upset if Dean found out the truth, so it now fell to Bobby to help Sam through this tough time. For as long as Sam was staying with him, there would be no talk of hunts or of research to be done. The two of them would do normal things and pretend that they were two ordinary people. But most of all, Bobby just wanted Sam to lay down his burden that had been imposed by his father and let him just be a child—even if it was only for a few days.

That was Bobby's greatest wish.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__Next chapter, Bobby and Sam bond over doing things most people take for granted! Dean will also be in the next chapter. If you have a second, I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter so if you get a chance, please review! Thanks for reading!_


	3. Phone Call

_**Author's Note: **__Thanks for all the kind words! I'm glad that I'm not the only one who likes a Sam/Bobby bonding story!_

* * *

"_You're always running from something, it seems." _

_Passing Strange, "Come Down Now"_

* * *

They spent the rest of the day watching melodramatic Spanish soap operas. It took a few episodes for Sam to get the gist of what was going on; but by the time that dusk rolled around, Sam was almost as invested in it as Bobby was.

"But, Jose can't die!" Sam exclaimed as the screen went black and Bobby rose from the couch. "What would Maria do?"

"Marry his twin brother." Bobby stated and chuckled dryly at Sam's horror struck expression.

"No!" Sam shouted. "But he's evil!"

"Well, we'll have to just watch the next episode tomorrow," Sam nodded his agreement and then awkwardly eyed his surroundings. Bobby watched curiously as Sam went to his duffel and picked it up. He glanced at the stairs leading up to the bedrooms and seemed to be mentally debating whether he was allowed to go to his room or not. "Upstairs is all ready for you."

"Oh, thanks." Sam shot him a grin and sprinted upstairs. Bobby smirked slightly as he headed to the kitchen. The phone rang and after checking to see which line it was, the older picked it up with a gruff:

"Singer."

_"How's Sam doing?" _

"Dean," Bobby greeted. "He's fine."

_"Dad said there was a werewolf—" _A twinge of guilt hit Bobby as he heard the sheer worry that spilled over into Dean's voice. It had been a lie to protect Sam, but the crotchety hunter hadn't thought about the consequences when he had been telling it.

"Couldn't find it," Bobby explained quickly and he could hear Dean's audible sigh of relief on the other end of the line. He smirked. "Took Sam with me though. Figured I could give him—"

_"A few days off?" _Dean guessed.

"It's been that bad, huh?" Bobby questioned and there was a rustling on the other end, as if Dean was nervously shifting the phone from one side to the other. "He and your daddy fighting?"

_"Everyday."_

"About what?"

_"Everything—school, hunting, research," _Dean listed. _"Dad thinks Sam isn't prepared for the life and Sam just wants to read his books." _The older Winchester laughed dryly. _"Sam is such a geek that way, you know?" _

"I know." And he did, truly. His own childhood hadn't been exactly perfect and books had often been his own escape. Not the kind of lofty fiction that Sam read, but books about cars or anything mechanical. Bobby used to devour those when he was younger—it was an escape from the life that seemed to consume him.

"Is that Dean?" Sam asked suddenly, nearly startling the older man who then cursed his age. He was getting soft, it appeared. "Can I talk to him?" Bobby wordlessly handed over the phone. "Hi, Dean!" Sam animatedly began talking into the receiver, a grin lighting up his face.

"Those boys." Bobby mumbled to himself as he made himself scarce. Last thing he wanted to do was intrude on a private moment between those two. He set about scrounging up something for dinner, almost certain that he would have to go to the store with the way that Sam had been eating. That kid was a bottomless pit . . .

"No, Dean! Please don't—!" Sam interjected sharply and it made Bobby pause. Frowning, he peeked into the other room and saw the sheer panic that had enveloped Sam's expression.

"Sam?" Bobby questioned, the kid seemed not to notice him, or if he did, he didn't care.

"I can't—" Sam began when a loud voice bellowed into his ear. Bobby couldn't make out the words, but he knew the voice—John Winchester—and it seemed like he was on a rampage. "Dad, I—" Without asking for permission, Bobby gently tugged the phone from Sam's hand and placed the receiver to his ear.

_"Sam Winchester, you will do this work while you're there! You can't expect to be at Bobby's without pulling your weight! Jesus, Sam—!"_

"Easy there, John." Bobby said calmly as Sam watched him, eyes wide with worry and wonder.

_"Bobby? I was talkin' to—" _John started.

"Yeah, well, sorry about that, but I needed Sam to go check over some Latin for me," He winked at the youngest Winchester. The smile that graced Sam's lips was the brightest Bobby had ever seen yet. "Hope you don't mind."

_"No, of course not!"_ John exclaimed, seemingly relieved. _"He should be helping you out."_

"Well, Sam is a big help, that's for sure," Bobby replied, lips tugging up in a small grin. "How's the hunt?"

_"Still tracking the damn thing," _John mumbled. _"We interviewed the families of the victims today and they were all killed in different places at different places." _

"Damn." Bobby cursed.

_"Yeah,"_ John agreed. _"We might be a little while longer than I planned. If Sam becomes too much of a bother, you can always send him back—"_

"He ain't a bother," Bobby insisted. "Sam's been lots of help." Beside him, the youngest Winchester gently tugged on his arm and Bobby caught the unguarded love in his eyes. Sam's eyes had always been so expressive and the boy could use them to make almost anyone fall in love with him. Bobby had seen it too! Sam would just glance at a stranger in the store and all of a sudden, he was the center of attention and being fawned over. To see that Sam appreciated him so much, that Sam loved him as if he were his flesh-and-blood uncle made the old hunter fell 10 feet tall. He hadn't felt such emotion since before his wife had died.

"I'll talk to him, Uncle Bobby." Sam told him quietly and without even protesting, Bobby simply handed him the phone.

"Hi, Dad." He whispered into the phone. John's voice was calmer now, leaving Bobby to surmise that he had snapped at his youngest due to the stress of this hunt. It wasn't a good enough reason to be so angry with Sam, but it was an excuse and from the looks of Sam's relaxed expression, he knew that was the best he was going to get from his father.

Bobby left the room once more and headed back into the kitchen. Dean had told him that things were stressful with John, but seeing their interaction—even just over the phone—the older hunter could tell that things were worse than what Sam or Dean was telling him. Things had gotten so bad that Sam had run away from it all and it was only by sheer luck that he had ended up on Bobby's porch. If he hadn't . . .

"Idjit." He cursed softly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no point wondering about what-ifs. Sam was with him now and that was all that mattered. Maybe he couldn't fix whatever was going on between Sam and John, but he sure as hell could give Sam the best damn vacation that any kid could ask for.

"Dean, I'm trying," Sam whispered, voice breaking and Bobby's heart skipped a beat. "I just . . . It's never good enough." Silently, Bobby picked up the other receiver, knowing he was violating Sam's trust, but needed to hear whatever they were talking about.

_"I know, kiddo, I know," _Dean soothed and Bobby thanked whatever higher power existed that Dean cared so much about his baby brother. _"But, you know stressed he's been with this hunt. Things will get better when we're done." _

"But what if they don't?" Sam insisted and Bobby heard Dean sigh softly.

_"Sammy, have I ever been wrong before?" _Some of that famous cocky Dean Winchester attitude slipped into his tone, making Bobby smirk slightly.

"No—"

_"Then, I'm always right," _Dean concluded. John's voice made some comment and the phone shifted slightly. _"I've gotta go now, Sam."_

"I know." The youngest Winchester replied.

_"Look, if you need anything, you call, okay? I don't care what Dad says, I will always—"_

"I know, Dean." Sam said softly.

_"Okay, well, I'll talk to you soon." _

"Yeah, soon." He echoed.

_"It'll be okay, you'll see, Sammy." _Dean insisted.

"Bye, Dean."

And with that, Sam hung up.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__And that concludes this chapter! If you have a second, please review. I'd love to hear what you thought! Next chapter will have plenty of action! _


	4. When You're with Me

_** Author's Note: **__The Sam and Bobby bonding continues! Sorry for the long delay in-between chapters. Life has been so busy that I haven't had too much time to write. Thanks for everyone who is reading this story! Please enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

"_I just wanna scream and lose control_

_Throw my hands up and let it go_

_Forget about everything and runaway, yeah."_

—_Avril Lavigne, "Runaway"_

* * *

Now, Bobby didn't know too much about what a "normal" childhood was supposed to be like. Hell, his own childhood hadn't been perfect in any sense and this left the gruff hunter with little to reflect upon. How could he give Sam a great vacation when he had no idea what "normal" 13 year olds did? He barely remembered what he had done when he was 13!

"Balls." Bobby swore softly as he rested his hands against the kitchen counter. Sam was upstairs, delving into a novel that the older hunter had been able to scrounge up. He had no idea if it was any good—it was just some Sherlock Holmes book that he had meant to get rid of, but forgot about—however the look on Sam's face told him that it didn't matter. With Sam, it had always been the thought that counted. The book could be the worst thing written in existence and yet, Sam would treat it as a treasure. The kid was just like that and it warmed Bobby's heart.

He had managed to dig out a pizza from the freezer, place it his ancient oven and somehow hadn't burnt it. The two had shared it and had a nice, normal conversation about things that had nothing to do with hunting. Currently, it was getting late, but Bobby wasn't sure what the protocol was when it came to sending kids off to bed. Did Sam have a bedtime or was he too old for that kind of thing? Would he be offended if Bobby went upstairs and let him stay up alone? Sighing, he paced the floor of the kitchen, numerous possibilities swirling in his head.

This was why he stayed away from kids—they were too confusing!

Still, there was something about those Winchester boys and how they had wormed themselves into his heart. After Karen . . . well, he had figured he would never be truly happy again. Then, Sam and Dean came barreling into his life and made him laugh and for the first time in years, Bobby found himself feeling truly happy again. Those boys—they were something special. John was lucky to have them and it was a shame he treated them more like soldiers than his sons. Still, you didn't go through what John went through and come out on the other side unscathed. John was a broken man with two sons—he had put the pieces back the best he could and this was the result. He was an angry man who loved his sons fiercely and wanted nothing more than to hunt down the demon that had killed his wife in the hopes that it would keep his boys safe. Somewhere though, the desire to kill the demon became more fueled by revenge and John lost sight of the fact that he was a father first and a hunter second. Still, Bobby couldn't begrudge the man. Losing Karen had almost been the end for him and he hadn't had kids to worry about.

"Good night, Uncle Bobby." Sam's voice took him off-guard and Bobby almost flinched in surprise. The youngest Winchester stood in the doorframe, dressed in an oversized shirt that he seemed to be swimming in and some sweat pants. He smiled tiredly at Bobby and the older hunter found himself grinning back.

"Night, Sam." Bobby told him.

With that, Sam skipped upstairs and went to bed, leaving Bobby to chuckle dryly before he too headed off to bed.

* * *

The smell of pancakes greeted him.

"Good morning, Uncle Bobby!" Sam chirped brightly as Bobby entered the kitchen. Sam was over the stove, a spatula in his hand and a pile of piping hot pancakes beside him.

"Sam, what . . ?" Bobby's voice's faded as he took in the sight fully. Was it his imagination or did his kitchen look visibly cleaner than it had when he went to bed? The dishes were no longer in the sink; they were stacked neatly in piles. The counter appeared to sparkling in the sunlight, all traces of grease gone. "What the hell?"

"You're mad." Sam's timid voice brought his eyes back to the young teen. He was frowning and seemed to be shutting down. Had he done this once with John and gotten yelled for it?

"No." The older hunter insisted quickly. "You just took me by surprise, that's all." He shot the kid a quick grin and watched as Sam visibly relaxed. "When did you—?" He gestured to the kitchen.

"This morning!" Sam exclaimed, flipping a pancake. "I'd figured that I could thank you with breakfast." Bobby sat down at the small table and Sam flipped off the burner of the stove and placed a stack of pancakes before him. After placing maple syrup at the table, he went to sit across from Bobby and began to dig into his own plate of pancakes. Much to his surprise, they tasted wonderfully. Who knew Sam could cook?

"They're great." The gruff hunter told the youngest Winchester with a small smile. Sam beamed.

"Thanks!" Sam swirled a piece of his pancake around in the syrup on his plate. "Dean loves pancakes."

"I bet he does." Bobby nodded knowingly. Those two boys . . . they were bonded even more closely than twins! "How'd you learn to make these?"

"Culinary arts," Sam replied. "Three schools back." The young teen cut up his second pancake into almost perfectly symmetrical pieces as a twinge of sadness entered his eyes.

"You don't like moving?" He ventured, earning a small headshake from the boy in return.

"I never fit in." He whispered.

"I'm sure that's not true—"

"It is though," Sam protested, slamming his fork down on the table. "I keep trying and I just can't do it anymore, Uncle Bobby! Dean was good at it because he always fit in." His shoulders drooped as his words continued to tumble out. "I don't want to do this anymore." He met Bobby's gaze, eyes full of worry and longing all rolled into one. It was a devastating look—one that made the older hunter feel nothing but grief for the kid. Maybe he could talk to John . . . aw, who was he kidding? John Winchester barely listened to him as it was; he sure as hell wasn't going to listen to him if he told him that Sam shouldn't be forced into this life. It wasn't his place and it wouldn't work.

"Well, long as you're with me," Bobby started, making sure he had Sam's full attention. "You don't have to."

And he meant every word.

* * *

Sam somehow talked him into—okay, well actually Bobby just gave in because who could resist those puppy dog eyes—taking him to the movies. Apparently, the nearby movie theater was doing some old classic movie matinee and the older hunter didn't have it in his heart to say no. So, he sat through _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and while it wasn't a film that appealed to him, he did appreciate the fact that it made Sam smile.

"That was great!" The teen exclaimed for what had to be the third time in the past 10 minutes.

"You've never seen it before?" Bobby questioned, wondering how Sam would've even heard of it.

"No," He answered. "We read it in school, three states back." The same flash of sadness darkened his face for the briefest of seconds. The gruff hunter grimaced. It seemed the constant moving was taking quite a toll on Sam.

"So, what did you like about it?" He asked quickly, not giving the kid much time to reflect on his sucky school life.

"Atticus."

"The lawyer?" Bobby echoed, surprised. Hunters didn't have much love for the law or those that enforced it. The few lawyers he had met had been jerks or possessed—not exactly a winning track record.

"Yeah!" Sam replied brightly. "He knew that guy was innocent. He didn't care if his whole career went down the drain—he was going to defend this guy because he knew it was right." A spark of life flashed in his eyes as he animatedly explained to Bobby how Atticus was an amazing person and how he wished he could be more like him.

It was the happiest Bobby had seen him since Sam had shown up on his doorstep.

"So, you wanna be a lawyer?" Bobby asked jokingly. It was ridiculous to think of a hunter's kid working for civilians and the law. So often, the law punished hunters for doing a job that had to be done—a job that people couldn't understand.

"Yeah." It was so quiet that Bobby almost missed it. He met the older hunter's gaze and with a small grin added, "Yeah, I'd like to do that."

_I'll be damned_, Bobby mused, watching Sam babble on about the movie as the two piled into his truck.

They headed back to the salvage yard.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__There you go! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you have a second, please review. See you next chapter! _


	5. Curveball

_**Author's Note: **__Wow, it has been a long time since I updated this. I am really sorry about the delay! My personal life got really busy and other stories took over . . . anyways, I'm back now. Please enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

"_I gotta get outta here _

_I'm stuck inside this rut that I fell into by mistake_

_I gotta get outta here _

_And I'm begging you, I'm begging you, I'm begging you to be my escape."_

—_Relient K, "Be My Escape"_

* * *

Time passed as time does.

Soon, nearly a week had flown by since Sam had come to stay and Bobby found himself enjoying the boy's company. The youngest Winchester had this way about him—this passion for all things that involved books, this spark in his eyes whenever Bobby would ask for his opinion on something—and the gruff hunter wondered if this little vacation would be enough to help Sam endure months of a life he hated. The boy was 13 and he desperately wanted to make his own decisions. The hunter's life; however, wasn't a life that allowed you to do that. Being a hunter meant following orders because if you didn't, you or someone else could be killed. With a father like John bearing down on him as well, it was no wonder that Sam hadn't snapped sooner. It was just lucky that he had managed to end up on Bobby's porch rather than vanishing over state lines and possibly into the arms of Child Protective Services. John had dodged the bullet and wouldn't even know how close it had come.

"Uncle Bobby?" Sam's voice snapped him out of his reverie and Bobby glanced across the table. The youngest Winchester was cautiously pushing his ravioli around on the plate, as if he was summoning up the nerve to speak. Patiently, the older hunter waited. "When do I have to go back?"

"When the hunt is done," Bobby replied because it was the truth. As soon as John and Dean finished the Wendigo or whatever it was they were hunting, they would be back bright and early to drag Sam off to another state. It wasn't right—children shouldn't be subjected to things like this—but it was the hand that fate had dealt Sam. Bobby could try to delay it as much as he could, but in the end, John would return and this brief respite would be nothing more than a dim memory. Softly, he continued, "You don't want to see your daddy and Dean—?"

"No, I do!" Sam protested, eyes meeting Bobby's gaze. "It's just . . ." The metal fork scrapped against the plate. "This has been nice." A shy smile tugged at Sam's lips and the hardened hunter found himself grinning too.

"You're welcome anytime," Bobby assured him. "I mean it. You feel like runnin' off again, you come here, understand me?"

"Yes, sir." Sam replied dutifully.

"Good."

They ate the rest of the meal in silence.

* * *

Of all the things Bobby had anticipated, this was not one of them.

"Slow down, Marie," He barked into the phone as he listened to one of his closer neighbors rattle off how she had seen a spirit rampaging in her house. "You're sure?"

_"Am I sure?" _She echoed, nearly hysterical. _"Of course I'm sure, you damn fool!" _

"Just get out of the house, alright?" Bobby ordered gruffly, glance darting around the room as he searched for his keys and his duffel.

_"I am," _Marie assured him, voice shaking. _"Please, Bobby, I don't want things to get worse . . . like they were with David." _He nodded reassuringly; despite the fact he knew that she would never be able to see the gesture. David had been Marie's first husband and the two had been ready to live the American Dream when all of a sudden, David died.

Only, he didn't stay dead.

For months after his death, he terrorized Marie until finally, Bobby had stumbled across the ghost attempting to kill his wife and quickly put an end to it. Eternally grateful, Marie had been baking him casseroles and desserts for years now. Though not exactly friends, she was one of the few people in Sioux Falls that knew his true occupation.

"I'm on my way," Bobby assured her. "Just stay out of the house and wait until I get there."

_"I will." _She murmured and with that, the older hunter hung up the phone. Cursing softly, Bobby searched for his duffel and his keys. Where had he put those damn things?

"Here." Sam stood before him, his face a mixture of anxiety and anger as he held out the gruff hunter's supply bag in one hand and his keys in the other.

"Sam." Bobby greeted.

"You're hunting?" Sam questioned softly, a darkness flickering over his face for a few seconds, but vanishing before Bobby could make out anything.

"Vengeful spirit down the road," He informed the youngest Winchester. "You'll be alright here?" Sam startled and stared at him coldly.

"I'm going with you." He retorted.

"What?" Sam sighed, as if Bobby was the biggest idiot ever for not figuring this out.

"You need backup," He answered, placing the duffel over his shoulder and tossing the keys to Bobby. He headed to the door and then glanced back, looking exasperated for some unknown reason. "C'mon. Let's do this." With that, Sam marched outside.

"I'll be damned." He whispered.

Bobby certainly hadn't seen that one coming.

* * *

_** Author's Note: **__Short, I know, but I needed to get this out of the way to lead up to some Hurt!Sam in the next chapter. Please review if you have a second. An update will be faster this next time around, I promise! _


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